Page 57 of Hard to Love

The lights are dim and I’m just about to the kitchen when I hear Finn’s voice near the front of the house. It’s a low rumble in hushed tones that I head toward, figuring he’s on the phone and is just being quiet so as not to wake me up, as he has several times since I’ve been here.

“You don’t have to be qui—” I realize my mistake a moment too late when I see Finn at the front door, his back to me, and hear a feminine laugh. “Oh. I didn’t mean to . . .”

“It’s okay.” Finn retreats a step, turning so I’m met with a gorgeous brunette in a dazzling blue, sparkled dress. Her hair is a tumble of long curls and her features—eyes, nose, lips, boobs—are stunning. In that fleeting moment, insecurity rears its ugly head while I feel like she’s everything that I’m not even though, from this distance, I can’t even make the comparison. Yet the comparison is still there, front and center in my mind. “Kristen was just stopping by to . . .”

I force a smile on my lips praying he doesn’t finish that sentence. “Of course. I’m sorry to interrupt. I was just grabbing a glass of wine and thought you might like to—never mind.” The thumb I hook over my shoulder dies midmotion so that I look like an idiot trying to hitchhike. “Nice to meet you, Kristen.”

“My apologies,” Finn says turning back to her. “I forgot to introd—”

“Nice to meet you too . . .” Kristen says, her eyes narrowing in on me, and I don’t exactly think it’s because she’s happy to see me there. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“It’s—”

“Nothing,” Finn stutters before staring at me and willing me to go away. “Good night.” The curtness of the two words takes me by surprise and even worse is the catty smirk Kristen gives me from behind Finn.

With a purse of my lips and a nod, me and my bruised ego head back to the kitchen to drink alone.

My feelings are hurt.

I know it sounds ridiculous but they are.

If I wasn’t so stressed about the interview tomorrow, I’d take a step back and realize that maybe Finn wasn’t pushing me out of the way to make room for Kristen. Maybe he was pushing me away so that she didn’t realize who I was and let the cat out of her no-doubt gossip-y mouth about who I was and where I was staying.

A rational me would have realized that.

But this is the jealous me who knows that there is no other reason for Kristen to show up close to midnight in her party dress, which is probably sans undergarments, other than to make an in-person booty call.

More to the point that this might not have been the first time she’s done it either.

And I don’t know why it bugs me so much.

Because you like him.

Of course, I like him. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, but having sex with him and scratching an itch is completely different than getting jealous when I think someone else wants to do the same thing with him.

Completely different.

“Sorry about that,” Finn says as he moves into the kitchen, as if I’m not sitting over here staring at an opened wine bottle and an empty glass stewing over a woman I shouldn’t give two shits about.

“I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two. Obviously you had plans, and I didn’t think twice about how me being here affected those plans and—”

“There were no plans, Stevie.”

“Her heels and party dress on your doorstep at midnight say otherwise.” I snort.

He chuckles. “She was quite obvious, wasn’t she?”

“Just a little.” I finally pour my glass and take a long sip, not caring about the sarcasm in my voice.

“Are you jealous?” he asks rounding the counter so he can see my face. I stare out the window instead, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “You are jealous.”

“I am not. Why would I be jealous if she clearly came over for a booty call?” I roll my eyes. “We had sex. We were . . . nothing. So . . .”

“So if I were nothing with her too, then it would be okay with you?”

“I didn’t say that.” I snap the words out and then realize I can’t take them back. He clears his throat, clearly enjoying this invisible catfight over him. I make a show of draining my glass of wine to distract him. “I’m going to bed now so just in case you have her hidden outside the door, you can sneak her into your room now.”

“I’m not sneaking her anywhere, Stevie. I haven’t seen her in over six months. She saw me when I went out for a jog the other day so she decided to stop by.”